Real or False
by Wordgawk
Summary: Jill had existed in a reality which wasn't hers and now she has the chance to live in the true one. Resident Evil 5.


**Author's note: Jill and Chris are awesome. So are a string of other characters. _Finito_. Story takes place post-RE5.**

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Real or False

The huge ordeal with Wesker, Uroboros and Jill's kidnapping were finally put to rest. Jill could not be relieved enough. Upon return to North America, briefing after briefing followed, and then came documents to fill out. Being officially declared dead was probably easier if the mountain of papers to read and check upon "revival" were any indication.

She soldiered on, though, and perused those long-winded documents the best she could. She finally was able to think coherently almost a week after her rescue. Jill had unfavorably kept busy with constant blackouts and mind-numbing delirium from her supply of the P-30 serum aborting so suddenly. The medical bay was her bedroom for days. She couldn't remember her dreams. Couldn't remember much else except drooping in and out of consciousness, thrashing, and screaming. The words were a lost memory, but her slightly sore throat was a testament to the severity of her yells.

The one thing she knew for certain was that sometimes when she broke free from the confines of delirium, an anchored hand would be seizing her own. Sometimes the grip was strong, and other times it was soft. But it was always the same hand. Always Chris. When Jill understood he was around, she wasn't so terrified of sinking into the darkness of nightmares. Falling happened frequently and thoughts of clawing her way out of the stupor plagued the tiniest coherent part of her brain whenever consciousness allowed her rational thought.

Feeling a little disjointed but in one piece, Jill now had the ability to leave the facility on her own. At the moment, that freedom was not granted as scribbles of her signature on documents were mandatory. The man in charge of giving her the documents left her alone with Chris who explained details. Chris, being around officers, kept his professionalism as he pointed out to her anything she needed clarification on. Jill observed him with a detachment, finding it interesting to see how devoted he was to work while knowing at the same time his passion for saving people.

Jill Valentine. She stared at the scrawl of her signature on the first sheet laid in front of her nose.

"Something the matter?" Chris queried softly, the razor edge to his commending tone lessened since they were by themselves.

The name felt foreign for her to write, as if she were writing a letter to someone. More than a year since she last wrote her own name. Was she really alive? She was home?

Jill smiled tiredly at her good friend. "Sure. Sitting in front of papers when you want to eat is always a rush." Breakfast was long gone. Lunch had recently passed. The latter Jill wasn't able to partake in.

Chris returned her grin with a quick one. "Don't worry, you'll be eating soon."

"A promise, is that what I detect?" Jill teased, glancing up at Chris's towering form next to her chair.

"Yes. Redfields know how to keep those." Chris puffed out his chest in mock proudness and thumped a fist over it. Jill pretended to put up with his silliness and rolled her eyes, though she was thoroughly enjoying their casual banter. She missed it.

Numerous ink runs and cursive writing signings later, Jill stretched her still sore arm muscles out over her head and held the position. "Done!"

"Jill Valentine, among other fine amenities, you are now the proud owner of a firearms license again," Chris stated in his best announcer voice.

"Damn straight. What would we do without them- oww." She lowered her arms at a throb of pain which spiked through the back of her head. She held the spot. It had been only a few days after her reprieve from the medical bay and lingering headaches were a harsh reminder of her partnership with Wesker. Thankfully, the aches were lessening as the calendar ticked on.

Chris affectionately rubbed a big hand on her shoulder. "Are you up for eating with me? If not you could return home and sleep." Jill was temporarily staying at one of the female officials' apartment. The arrangement was convenient. The kind woman had insisted, saying something about Jill requiring some remotely feminine surroundings after all the manhandling she had gone through. An extra room was available and the company was welcome. Chris had generously offered to put her up at his place for a little while since his sister was away and her room was unoccupied. Jill didn't want to put him out, regardless, so she declined.

Jill took a moment to let the pulsing in her head pass. She refused to take pills for them. Her body had been loaded with enough drugs. "Yes. I didn't practice my signature this past hour for nothing."

They watched each other intensely, Jill's relaxed arms leaning on the tabletop, and Chris's comforting hand resting on her shoulder. The gesture felt like old times, when S.T.A.R.S was in her life and her beret was worn as often as her hip holster. Chris was a gentleman then, and in spite of his exterior changes over these years, he still was, evidently.

"Ms. Valentine? Are you done?" A BSAA member stepped through the doorway of the room to check her progress. Warmth left her back as Chris furtively removed his hand off it.

A bit disappointed, Jill nodded to the man, gathering up her papers to hand over to him. After some ending formalities, she and Chris were walking in the outside world to his jeep. A few crows nested near it, pecking at a partially eaten burger from a foil wrapper. When she neared them, they cawed invasively and beat their wings in the air. They soared past her over her head in a rush and Jill started. She had half expected them to lance on top of her. Chris watched her but didn't comment.

As Jill slid into the passenger seat, she poked Chris's arm once he got inside. "Where to?"

Chris keyed the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. "That is a surprise."

The short trip to the secret area was filled with light chatter where Jill made comments on how the surroundings they passed had changed since the last time she was there. Late afternoon still revealed bright sun as it was late spring. Chris joked that there was such a thing as seasons, to which Jill batted him on the toned arm. He filled her in about their friends and their current residences.

They soon pulled up to an expansive apartment complex with beige paint and black sidings. Jill whistled as she got out, staring at the manicured lawn lining the entrance and its neat trim of tulips surrounding the apartment's name on a sign piked into the dirt. Chris's healthy BSAA pay sure must reap him benefits.

"It's not much," Chris replied offhandedly at her impressed state as she shut the driver's door.

"Not much? There's not a paint chip anywhere. These flowers are also not dead." Entranced by a specially yellow one, Jill crouched to peer at it. The sun behind her lit the flora with an almost dizzying intensity. She felt like it was forever since she saw something so humanitarian in her life. The vicious sight of corpses, savage killers, and blood permeated her mind everyday during her time with Wesker. Here, now, she wanted the iridescent color to burn into her memory.

Behind Jill, Chris arched his hands above her head, making bunny ears appear in her cast shadow. "Bunny Jill likes flowers?"

Jill saw her altered shadow and smiled. It was nice to see him joke. She reached up to grasp one of his burly hands, so war torn yet soothing. Her thin fingers curled around his own. "Yes. And food. Sorry." She held on as he hoisted her onto her feet.

"Don't forget, no matter what happens tonight you don't own any responsibility." Chris guided her to his front door.

"What??" Jill asked incredulously. Chris never spoke like that.

He ignored her with a tiniest smirk as he unlocked the door. He opened it and swept his hand through the unlit hall to allow her entry first. "We won't strip."

"Oh, I feel much better when you say that-" Jill jokingly began, only to be interrupted when Chris flicked on his hallway lights. A cheery chorus of "welcome back, Jill!" rose in the air from a group of people standing there.

Jill felt her stomach plummet not in terror but joy at recognizing the familiar faces. Her mouth fell open and she thought her smile could not be wider. "Oh my god, you're all here!" Cooperatively smooshed in the narrow hallway were familiar people she met over the years: Claire, Leon, Rebecca, and Barry.

"So are you!" Young Rebecca jumped forward from the throng and hugged Jill. The medic was still as energetic as ever. She must be around the age Jill had been when she started off in S.T.A.R.S. Those memories seemed like a lifetime ago.

Returning the kind and enthusiastic greeting with recovering strength and ignoring her moodiness, Jill then turned to Claire. The woman was blooming, her waist and chest curvier and easier to discern with her fitting clothes. Her tomboy days seemed to have diminished, though that could be a ruse.

"Your big bro here says you're busy," Jill informed her.

Claire grinned cheekily. "I am, but I have some vacation. Only for a week, though. Feel free to use my room if you want to crash here. I'm tough enough to wrestle the couch to submission." She indicated it with her thumb.

Jill chuckled, then looked at Leon. "And how is life as a government agent working out?"

"I've got my good and bad days. But keep that a secret," Leon said the last part in an exaggerated whisper.

Claire waved Jill over to the interior of Chris's home. "C'mon, sit, sit. Tell us how you're doing."

Overwhelmed by the attention, Jill didn't get to settle down and take good looks until everyone had their turn to greet her and hug.

In Chris's living room, everyone sat. Jill enjoyed her breather and took in the furniture Chris chose to decorate his place. The area was distinctly masculine. A tan leather couch, glass-topped table, and black foldable chairs surrounded her. A sea green oriental rug matched the mahogany-stained floor. How fitting that something green entered his furniture repertoire. Jill had teased him about his love for green and Chris had retorted that it wasn't a favorite color of his despite evidence to the contrary.

Jill studied her friends. Everyone had matured. Faces filled in and hair longer --or shorter in Barry's case. Their bodies remained strengthened like before, physiques muscled. Not as substantially as Chris had undergone, which was a relief; how any man could build such muscle tone in a blink of an eye without drugged help was beyond Jill's understanding. It must be another mystery of man.

Speaking of bodies, Jill noted Leon and Claire sat together closely, their thighs touching side by side. Jill teasingly raised eyebrows at them. "You two have hit the checkout as an item?"

Leon and Claire answered simultaneously. It would have been cute had their answers been the same.

Claire turned to Leon in exasperation at his lackluster respond. "Leon! What do you mean 'no'?"

The man stared at her quizzically. "I thought politeness was agreed. We didn't want to stir anything up."

Claire shook her head. "Only if we made out in front of everybody would we stir."

Understanding dawned in Leon's bright eyes. "Oh."

Rebecca raised an enthusiastic arm. "Ooh, if either of you pass out from lack of oxygen due to prolonged kissing, I can revive you!" There went her zest for medical knowledge at work.

Barry laughed at the emerging couple. "They remind me of me and my wife when we began dating."

Jill gestured to the now arguing twosome. "The quarrels of fun?"

"You bet." Barry covered his face. "It doesn't stop at the beginning. Women." He meant the comment to sound bitter, but his tone was contradictory.

Chris walked over, placing water glasses on the table in the center of the seats for his guests. Retaining two glasses, he plopped himself next to Jill and offered her one. "Barry, man, you gotta get a charge account for bouquets." Chris seemed at ease at seeing his sister and Leon showing interest in one another. With all the slimy guys out there out to break hearts, Leon wasn't the type to stomp. Jill got that impression.

Jill warningly prodded the large man with her foot. "Hey, don't tell me you have one." She sipped the liquid, easing her parched throat. She hadn't realized her throat was so dry until Chris handed the glass over.

"Yep. I got that covered for something else." He nodded knowingly at Barry.

The three girls then exclaimed in disgust, "Chris!"

He frowned as if the ladies had morphed into aliens. "Excuse me?"

Claire, in her sisterly way, twisted appalled in her seat and shut her eyes like she couldn't bear her sudden insight. "Agh, Chris, you have a secret stash of things I don't want to find out aboooout!"

Jill couldn't agree more. "Keep a rein on the sensitive items."

Young and impressionable, though not so much young as she was impressionable these days, Rebecca joined on Chris's other side and nudged him. "You dog, you. I knew there had to be some way for you to get your releases."

Leon conspiratorially chimed in. "Yeah, it's supposed to be secret, hence 'secret' stash? Don't tell them anything."

Chris chuckled, but Jill did detect his fair skin slightly reddening. "You guys, the account is for weaponry. Guns, metallic objects, pointy things. Whatever gutter your minds are in, you better yank 'em out." He tsked and tilted his head at the dark-haired father. "Can you believe these gals?"

Barry shrugged innocently. "Nope. Jumping the gun, so to speak."

Everyone burst out in laughter.

When the gang calmed down, Jill asked brightly, "So what's on the menu? I'm starved."

Barry smirked knowingly. "Sandwiches."

Nobody else except him understood why Jill groaned and hung her head.

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Sandwiches and drinks consumed, Jill caught up with the current lives of her friends. Everyone worked in different groups and led separate paths in life, but their goal was remarkably collective: anti-bioterrorism. She felt a pang, wondering if she would fall into step with them to fight for the same cause.

Jill grew curious when the men began to move the large table and all the chairs except one from the middle of the living room against the walls. Only the couch stayed put with the lone chair. Claire took the honor of placing the chair squarely centered in the empty space. Lined up like good soldiers in front of the guest of honor, the group looked expectant. Rebecca bounced a little in place.

"What's this?" Jill eyed the silver attach case Barry spread on her lap.

"A gift from all of us." Chris tapped the top of her head from his high vantage point.

Leon grinned boyishly. "I came up with the idea."

Claire winked at him, drifting against his side briefly. "And what a spiffy plan."

Apparently, the plan was on a need-to-know basis. These two were in the know whereas the blank stares coming from the others meant they had no idea what to expect. Space was needed, that was all they seemed to be told. The lovebirds were staring amorously into their eyes, but broke off when they sensed Chris's proactive glare of protectiveness for his younger sibling. Claire roughly pushed Leon away like he was the one who instigated their romantic moment.

Barry pointed at the case. "Go on, check it out."

Jill opened the lid, shielding the contents within from view for everybody. Seeing the surprise, she chuckled. "Wow, this is a beauty."

"Isn't it?" Leon gloated, seeming mighty pleased with himself.

Comparable to the latest high-tech weaponry found only in the kids' toy aisle, Jill produced a hefty and garishly multi-hued gun. Complete with action pump and a plentiful canister filled with hard-coated candies, she was ready.

"Hit us, but you can't move from your chair. We will be shot. We have two lives. We will not relent as we have the mission of tagging you with this." Leon presented a long and vibrant pink feather from within his sheepskin jacket. He set it down on the floor between them. Everyone chorused his name in annoyance, but their hearts weren't into their malice. Without the outfit of serious business on, Leon appeared to be as carefree as ever. Actually, everyone was as cheery as he with their own metaphorical play clothes on.

Smirking playfully, Jill threateningly wagged the muzzle of her new weapon at everyone. "Get ready, 'cause I've got a fast trigger finger."

"My beautiful living room," Chris moaned, shielding his eyes a moment to gain strength before preparing himself. "Ok, team, remember: no carnage, no blood, and no breaking my stuff unless you wish to add hard-earned dollars to my direct deposit account."

Jill tested out a couple shots into the air to gauge the pressure. Very little pressure. Barely enough to sting, but the thing wasn't meant to pierce eyes.

She raised the barrel of the gun into the air and popped a candy piece to each of her victims as a warm-up. They happily caught their sweets and popped those into their mouths.

"Ready, and go!" Jill shot a shell into the air to signify her starting shot.

Everyone got peppered as their initiation. They allowed themselves to. It was a freebie hit which didn't count. Jill was nice enough to not lodge extra bullets into any one person. Though for the others whooping like chickens --the excited girls-- she changed her mind. They received nozzle fulls of bouncy delight. For the men, Jill made sure to aim at their crotches, just to get them to dodge. Chris shot her an especially menacing glare which she opted not to notice.

With his anger distracting him, Jill pelted Chris smack center in his forehead. He gurgled dramatically and flopped backwards onto his back.

"Hey, you gotta eat more!" Chugging out a few rounds onto Chris's prone form, he raised his neck.

"Hey, no wasting ammo on a fallen enemy." He dropped his head back.

"Field work defence! I love this!" Rebecca bellowed, snatching a pillow from the couch to use as a shield.

Claire laughed and grabbed the other pillow belonging to the opposite end of the couch. "Good thinking! Yaah!" Jill already aimed at Claire, but the girl was ready. A whizzing candy was batted back to Jill with the pillow. Jill wasn't giving in; she unleashed more bullets, surprised at the quick reloading mechanism. Why, it was practically a machine gun.

Leon hopped over the back of the couch. He ducked to avoid the onslaught and dove for the feather. Snatching it between his fingers, he rolled out of the way of incoming projectiles. He leaped forward. His left foot slipped on the rug and he went down on one knee. Jill swung her line of fire from the back of the room to the front. She caught him in the shins, then the chest. He clutched his wounds and keeled over at the foot of Jill's chair. The fuzzy pink protruded from his hand. So close.

"No, Leon!" Claire cried out when she saw her guy collapse.

Jill resumed her quick fire to the remaining targets. Barry stood bravely in front of the two females. He caught the majority of her hail. Some pieces nicked his shoulder and arms, but he paid them no heed. He handed individual pieces to Rebecca, who delicately placed each piece on top of the fluffy pillow Claire held out for her. Claire stared evilly at Jill. Barry sidestepped as the shooter catapulted little candies at the seated woman.

Jill guffawed at their pitiful pock shots, returning fire. She unloaded mercilessly; 20 or 30 shots. Some bullets grazed body parts. The injured shamelessly cried out, but they did not fall. She gauged there was another 30 rounds left before she emptied and would be rendered vulnerable.

Barry was a trooper and continued to catch her shots with unerring accuracy. She expected him to hand the handful to Rebecca for her to continue reloading onto the pillow.

Rebecca accepted the clumsy amount of firepower in her small hands. Some pieces rolled onto the hard floor as she tried to contain them in her closed fingers. Instead of resuming semi-auto fire using the pillow, she plunked the whole mess on top. "Fire in the hole!" she hollered.

Upon hearing her warning, Barry sidestepped out of shooting range and Rebecca ducked. Claire roared with an exaggerated high-pitched screech and flung all the firepower she had.

Jill shrieked delightfully when her whole barrage of sweets volleyed in her direction. Right before she shut her eyes she suddenly saw Leon stagger and advance at her periphery. He had went down but was not out for the count!

With the incoming load of gunfire aimed all over the place and her movement restriction, she had no choice but to cover her face. Her tasty bullets ricochet off her body and head. She thought some fell down her shirt.

She felt a poke in her hair. Nothing else bounced off her. Figuring it was safe, she opened her eyes. A bright pink feather drooped over her forehead.

"Score!" Leon whooped. The survivors pumped their fists triumphantly. Leon slumped down face first, appearing exhausted.

Claire walked to her fallen brother whose eyes were closed. She dropped to her knees next to him and wailed on his chest. "Chris didn't make it! It was the candy. I knew the hard ones were too much for him to handllllle! We should have stuck with gummies!"

"Rebecca, emergency, stat!" Barry clicked his fingers and gestured to the 'dead' man.

"Yessir!" In a flash, Rebecca occupied Chris's other side. She patted Claire's shoulder in consolation. "Don't worry, ma'am. There may be a chance he's alive."

Hope shimmered in blue eyes. "Really?"

A wavy hand belonging to Chris rose from his side. "I'm here," he weakly rasped.

The girls and Barry who joined the trio, collectively gasped and stared at him.

"He's back!" Rebecca unnecessarily pumped Chris's chest, then added, "Just in case."

"And Leon?" Claire looked worriedly in his direction.

Leon rolled over and gave them an "ok" sign with his fingers. "Leon is gonna be fine."

A heartbeat of silence fell across the room when everyone looked at each other's faces.

Exultation mingled with raucous laughter for minutes. The peals rang in Jill's ears like the sweetest bell chimes.

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Evening fell. At Chris's behest, the gang sans Jill restored his homey interior to normal. Furniture returned to proper places and all the stray ammo littering the floor was discarded. Jill guessed Chris would continue to find the occasional candy in the next couple weeks when he vacuumed. If he did, anyway.

Valedictories came as the group started to leave. Jill hugged them once again as they filed out the front door. When it was only her and Chris, she sighed. His place was quiet at night.

"I had the best time. My stomach still hurts from laughing." Their fun left her feeling drained, but the tiredness was totally worth every minute.

Chris smiled pleasantly. "I'm glad. Getting those guys together required planning."

Grateful for his thoughtful act, Jill swept him in a sudden hug before she comprehended what she was doing. Today was a dream full of expectations and blithe actions. All of it felt surreal.

"Jill," he murmured, not expecting the gesture and he merely stood still.

Jill pulled away to stare at his face. Though this was her intention, her cast down instead and she stared at his shirt. Her voice grew small. "Am I really here?" Anger then sharply raised her tone. " 'cause if it's some twisted form of torture that Wesker is playing at, by god, I'll-"

Like countless times before, Chris slipped his hand over the nape of her neck and squeezed gently. The movement indicated strength and passing it on. "Yes, you're here." His voice became hoarse and Jill glanced up when she distinguished it. His appreciative hazel eyes did not leave hers. "You're not in heaven yet. This is still Earth."

Jill stared at him, hope soaring. She truly was here. Her face crumbled and for the first time since setting foot down on solid ground in Africa and North America, tears streaked down her face. She wouldn't make a sound, instead covering her mouth. She wasn't fully aware why she was crying, only that she was.

But when she felt Chris's assuring arms encircle her and he said nothing, Jill sobbed loudly. She was smiling. She was not in heaven and this was not hell showing her a glimpse of heaven. This was Earth and all the people who mattered were here.

Chris stroked her back. "Welcome home."

-- THE END --


End file.
